


The story of how Dean Winchester unintentionally broke science

by Rowena4queen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Castiel and Jimmy Novak Are Twins, Charlie Ships It, Dean-Centric, Fluff, Happy Ending, Homophobic John Winchester, Jimmy and Dean are Best Friends, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Nerd Dean, No Smut, Punk Castiel, Shy Dean, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Twins, Underage Drinking, cas is a sweetheart, slightly older cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 04:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowena4queen/pseuds/Rowena4queen
Summary: It starts as a normal day on which Dean wants to hang out with his best friend Jimmy.It ends in a love story.





	The story of how Dean Winchester unintentionally broke science

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Argh I have so much learning to do.  
> Also me: spends the weekend writing Destiel fanfiction.
> 
> This story was inspired by [this tumblr post](https://not-natural-moose-and-squirrel.tumblr.com/post/160362225746/today-i-met-my-friends-identical-twin-i-had-no)

 

"Well, aren't you a cute one?" 

 

Dean blinked.  

Blinked again. 

He opened his mouth, just to close it again.  

Which probably made him look like a confused fish. 

It was Friday afternoon, his last class had finished half an hour ago and Dean had plans with his best friend Jimmy. Admittedly, study plans, but plans none the less. Dean wasn't really someone to enjoy parties if he was honest with himself. He was the exact opposite of every stereotype against nowadays' youth, actually. 

Because after all, Dean Winchester was a total nerd. He wore thick glasses, was in the theatre group, got good grades, was liked by the teachers, never started a fight or even got loud. Dean was the poster boy of a calm, studious 17 year old, and he was fine with that.

He had always imagined his life to start with college, anyways. 

Dean Winchester's life so far was ordered. Quiet. Kind of predictable. 

Which is why Dean absolutely did not know how to react to whatever it was that was happening here.  

The person that had opened the door looked like Jimmy, but he also...  _didn’t_. He had the same height, probably the same age, the same face, the same formed eyes.  

And yet. 

Instead of Jimmy's normal khakis with a white button down, the person leaning in the doorway wore tight, like really tight black jeans, an AC/DC shirt, dark boots and- a trench coat? His normally strictly combed hair was shaved on one side, too long and wild on the other. There were even little dots of dark blue colour in it. 

He didn't sound like Jimmy, either. His voice was darker, much more gravelly, kind of sexy. Wait, what? 

Most importantly, that person, that man, didn't act like Jimmy at all. His smirk was relaxed, rebellious. His whole demeanour screamed 'fuck the system', screamed- 

A hand waved in front of Dean's face, only inches away. 

"Hey, green-eyes, you alright?", the person asked, his grin only widening. Dean could see a piercing in the corner of his mouth, glinting in the sun.  

There was no way this could be Jimmy. 

"Ehm...", Dean stammered, still staring at the other. His brain seemed to have turned into mush, because he wouldn't be able to form a full sentence, even if his life depended on it. He had never seen such an unconventional, never seen such a  _perfect_ embodiment of the word beautiful in his whole life.  

"Not really a talkative one, are you? Let me tell you, it doesn't make you any less pretty." 

Dean felt the blush spreading on his cheeks with the realisation how much he was embarrassing himself at the moment. He quickly turned his gaze to the floor, slid his glasses back up his nose while he shuffled with his feet, trying to find the words he was looking for. 

The person in the doorway noticed how he pulled back, and within a second Dean felt a strong hand on his arm: "Aw, no, don't be like this. Don't hide these pretty orbs, green-eyes." 

Definitely not Jimmy, Dean thought, as he instinctively raised his head with the touch.  

The other was close, closer than before. Intense blue eyes assessed Dean, shining with both, mischief and empathy. Dean felt himself being watched intently, being analysed. 

"Freckles", not-Jimmy murmured suddenly. His hand came up, close to Dean's face. 

And while Dean realised that he should probably go back, should probably not allow the stranger to touch him, he didn't move. He was too mesmerized, too caught by- 

"Cas", a voice from inside the house made them both flinch back. "What's taking you so long?" 

Without taking his eyes off Dean, the other, Cas apparently, yelled back: "I think I broke you friend, Jimmy." 

That brought Dean out of his reverie, and he quickly took another step back, his eyes glued to the floor, his cheeks probably beet-red. Faintly, he thought he heard Cas sigh in disappointment, but before he could understand, Jimmy appeared next to Cas in the doorway. 

Dean looked at Jimmy. Looked at Cas. Looked at Jimmy again. 

Twins. 

He should have guessed so, Dean thought, shaking his head at the sight of the two siblings. Although, even Cersei and Tyrion couldn't look more different while being related than those two. Or act, for that matter. 

"Hey Dean", Jimmy said, elbowing his brother in the side. "I hope Cas didn't annoy you too much." 

"It's fine", Dean answered, his voice surprisingly strong considering how wobbly his legs felt. 

"Yeah, Jimmy", Cas added with that oh so deep voice that did  _things_ to Dean, "we were just having a nice little talk." 

Jimmy rolled his eyes, but teased fondly: "Don't flirt with my best friend, you idiot. He's too good for you heathen." 

Even with all the embarrassment that flooded his system, Dean couldn't help but smirk at the dramatic gesture, with which Cas raised his hand and laid it against his chest, as if he had been shot. 

"Spit on my grave, little brother", he wheezed, letting himself stumble back a few feet. "Spit on my grave." 

"Younger, not little. And that only by a few minutes", Jimmy amended laughingly. "And now leave, we have stuff to do." 

Cas grinned, showing his teeth, and with an over exaggerated bow, turned around towards the hallway. Before he disappeared into the house, he stopped one last time though and winked at the flustered teenager: "See you, Dean." 

Jimmy sighed loudly and in desperation and nodded towards the hallway, giving Dean a chance to recollect himself. What the hell has just happened? Any why was it that Dean felt so... so shaken, but like, in a good way. 

"Why didn't you ever tell me you had a twin?", Dean asked as he kicked off his shoes, only to then bend down to orderly put them under the coat hanger.  He had been in the house a lot of times, so he knew his was around. Yet, he had never seen Cas before, nor heard of him.

Jimmy shrugged: "I don't know, it never came up. He isn't home a lot, he lives with my mother." 

Jimmy's parents were divorced, have been for nearly all his life, and although he lived with his father, Chuck, Dean had already met his mother once. Naomi was a fierce woman, strict, severe. She had none of the relaxed joy with which Chuck always greeted him.  

Imagining Cas with Naomi- Dean didn't know whether that was a hilarious or a frightening idea. 

Jimmy seemed to notice his struggle, because he added: "Yeah, they don't get along too well, it's why he spends the holidays here. But don't let him fool you, Cas is actually the top of his class. He already graduated this year." 

"Oh, wow", Dean raised his eyebrows in respect. Jimmy was only half a year older than himself, after all. "He doesn't go to our school though, does he?" 

"God, no", Jimmy laughed. "If not for the piercings they would have thrown him out for his tattoos. No, he went to this private boarding school. Mom's idea." 

Dean had stopped listening after 'tattoos'.

By god, tattoos. He imagined the dark ink on the fair skin, on his strong arms, wide shoulders. His soft neck, muscled back, his- 

"Come on, let's go upstairs. I prepared my notes, but I'm really not sure whether..." 

And Jimmy dragged Dean away.  

Away from the door, but not away from his thoughts.  

He didn't really get a lot done that afternoon, with his thoughts lingering on the enigma in the other room. 

 

*** 

 

That evening wasn't the last time that Dean had met Cas. The older teenager suddenly seemed to appear everywhere around Lawrence. 

Dean saw him in the store, when he helped his mother with the groceries, saw him lingering outside with a pretty girl with dark wavy hair. 

He didn't even want to eat pie that evening. 

Dean saw him in the library, when he gave back his books, saw him chewing on a pencil while he went through a thick tome. 

With Google's help, he later found out that Cas read Plato's  _The republic_. Dean borrowed the book from another library the next day, too. 

And mostly, he saw him when he hung out with Jimmy.  

From that day forwards, it was nearly always Cas who opened the door for him, teasing him, trying to allure a coherent sentence out of him.  

Dean never managed to, but only a week later, he was confident enough to smile at Cas when the door was ripped open. Another few days later, he stopped blushing like a virgin whenever Cas teased him- not that he wasn't one. Never mind. And finally, he even greeted the intimidatingly beautiful man. 

Cas' grin as a response was so worth all of his nervousness. 

 

*** 

 

It was a Friday in July when it happened. 

Once again, Jimmy and Dean sat together in Jimmy's spacious room, only now they weren't learning. Today had been the last day of school for the summer, and instead of working on a project or reading their textbooks or learning vocabularies or their lines for theatre, they watched Game of Thrones with Charlie. The Queen had claimed the place in the middle of the bed, Jimmy to her left, her handmaiden to her right, as they intently stared at Jimmy's small TV. 

A loud bang from the room next door made them flinch, look at Jimmy questioningly. 

Jimmy only shrugged. "There's this party this evening and Cas is trying to figure out what to wear to it. Don't worry, it's just his vanguard process." 

Charlie answered something, but Dean didn't listen. 

Instead, he imagined Cas. 

Imagined Cas in different outfits. Changing those outfits. Revealing his tattoos- 

A fist bumped into his upper arm, making him hiss in surprise. 

"Damn it, Charlie, that hurt", he exclaimed. 

The others were only looking at him, unimpressed. 

"You tuned out again", Charlie accused him. 

"I didn't." 

"Then tell me what we were talking about", she challenged him with a levelling glare. 

Dean hesitated, bit on his bottom lip. He gulped, then: "We... We talked about Cas and ehm, then- okay, so I didn't listen. Sorry." 

Charlie rolled her eyes is desperation, but Jimmy sat up straighter. 

"You do that a lot, lately." 

"What?", Dean whipped around. 

"Tuning out. You do that a lot. Are you okay, Dean?", Jimmy asked with a serious expression. 

"Dude, I'm fine. I was just... thinking." 

Silence. Then, with a voice that could not be more innocent, Charlie questioned: "About Cas?" 

Scientifically, it should not be possible for a person to blush and pale at the same time. Yet, even years later, Jimmy and Charlie would tell the tale of how 'Dean broke science' to literally everything that moved. There were going to be situations when a person talked about the weather, just to be interrupted by one of them with the question: 'Have I already told you about that time when Dean broke science?' 

Back then, to his reaction, Charlie only smirked and turned to Jimmy. 

"You owe me, Novak", she exclaimed cheerfully. 

Jimmy shook his head: "He hasn't even said it, Charlie, shut up." 

"As if he has to say it, it's the most obvious-" 

"Say what?", Dean interrupted them, already fearing the worst. He knew his friends after all. Whatever they had planned, he didn't quite trust them with it.

"That you have a crush on Cas", Charlie waved him off before she turned back to Jimmy. "He doesn't have to say it to proof it. Just look at him." 

"You won't see any money before he actually says so. Those are the rules, Charlene." 

"You're just a sore loser. Admit your defeat and we can end this gracefully." 

Dean coughed, making them look back at him as if they had forgotten he was in the room. 

"I don't... I don't have a crush", Dean said, careful of his friend's reaction. "Not on Cas, not on anybody." 

"Oh, sweetheart. Denial, is that it?", Charlie asked precociously. 

"What?", Dean sputtered. "No Charlie, I really- I mean yes, I like Cas, he's... a nice guy. But that's it." 

Out of the corner, Dean saw Jimmy shaking his head.  

"Do you have anything you'd like to say?", he snapped, suddenly feeling attacked. 

His best friend only looked at him, regarded him with an intensity that made Dean squirm. Then, Jimmy stood up, went to his desk, and came back with a bill in his hand which he begrudgingly shoved in Charlie's hand.  

The others looked at him, confused. 

"What?", Jimmy shrugged. "She won. I won't pretend like she hasn't and strengthen Dean in his absurd claim. She's right, dude. You have a crush on my brother; even I can see it." 

Dean looked at him, with wide eyes, but Jimmy hadn't finished yet. 

"Cas is a nice guy, Dean, you said so yourself. Why not talk to him?" 

Dean sighed. 

"Okay, hypothetically, purely hypothetically, say I have a crush on your brother. He's so far out of my league, I'd never have a chance anyway." 

"Why do you think so?", Charlie chimed in, her head tilted in curiosity. 

"Look at him. Then look at me. There's your answer", Dean said, not quite able to keep up his poker face. 

Jimmy only shrugged: "Sure, you look different. But, hypothetically, you like the way he looks. Why can't he –hypothetically, of course- not like the way you look, too? You just have to ask him." 

Dean already opened his mouth to disagree, but he closed it again with a loud snap. He had no argument against this. As impossible as it was in real life, theoretically, it  _was_ possible. Finally, he fled to his last resort. 

"You know that I can't. My father would never... he wouldn't-" 

He sighed. 

It wasn't that John Winchester was a bad person, not at all. He was just not the most tolerant person. As in, not tolerant at all. 

It had been a difficult time for Dean as he understood his sexual orientation. He adored, idolised his father- and suddenly he was one of the fairies he had always condemned.  

It had also been the year when Dean had become so close friends with Charlie. The whole school knew that she was a lesbian, and a proud one, _and_ she led the LGBTQA group of their school. Dean asking her for advice had been the best thing he could have ever done. 

"Your father does not dictate your life, Dean", Jimmy argued. "What, do you want to stay single forever? Or unhappily marry some poor girl just to make your old man happy? For once in your life, do something for yourself, man. You deserve to be happy, too." 

"What he said", Charlie added with a soft smile.  

Dean yet shook his head: "Guys, no. Even  _if_ I was brave enough to defy Dad like that, I wouldn't know how to talk to Cas, nor do I think he'd want to-" 

He was interrupted by Jimmy's loud yell. 

"CAS!" 

Dean froze. 

From the other room, they heard another bang, then Cas yelled back, just as loud as his brother: "What?" 

"We'll come with you to the party." 

Dean's eyes became wider and wider with every second that passed, with every beat of silence. 

Then: "Only if you don't wear your khakis!" 

"Deal." 

And with a wide grin, Jimmy turned to Dean. 

"You idiot, what have you done?", the younger one exclaimed after a moment of shock, but Jimmy's smirk only widened. 

"There will be alcohol, loud music, many people. We'll find a way to make you relax, Dean, don't worry." 

"I'm not even eighteen yet, I'm not allowed-" 

"Relax, Dean, we're going there. Do you think anyone cares about your age? It's a private party, after all." 

Dean groaned loudly, letting his head fall so it leaned in his hand.  

"I'm going to regret this", he murmured, before he straightened again and sighed, defeated. "What do people even wear to these parties?" 

 

*** 

 

Dean felt uncomfortable. 

His jeans were too tight, he felt dizzy from the alcohol, his head pounded from the loud music. Whoever's party this was had absolutely no taste in music whatsoever. 

Next to him, Jimmy and Charlie were moving to the beat, enjoying themselves. They fit in surprisingly well for being the school's nerds. 

Dean swayed. He desperately needed some fresh air. 

"I'll be back in a second", he yelled to his friends. Whether they had actually understood him, he wasn't sure, but they nodded, so he turned around. 

The party wasn't too big. Some college kid had organised it, using their parent's absence. In the car, Cas had told them that, should anybody ask, they should just say that they were friends with Gabe. Dean smiled slightly. The car ride had been really cool. 

In the beginning, he had been nervous because Jimmy and Charlie had forced him to take the seat in the front, next to Cas who had driven them. The atmosphere had been a bit tense, at least until he had finally mustered up the courage to ask Cas whether he had tuned the motor. Years of working at his Uncle Bobby's salvage yard made him hear whenever someone tried to make a car more powerful than it was supposed to be. Cas had smirked, and for the first time, they had a real conversation. Sure, it was only about cars. But it meant more to Dean than he could put in words. 

Wandering through the house, along teenagers who were making out or drunk or were just disappearing into one of the rooms, it took Dean a few minutes to find the right door. 

Considering that it was a Kansas summer and literally hot as hell, Dean wasn't surprised to see the back yard empty. He was glad, actually. After all the hustle and bustle inside, he was grateful to have a minute for himself, a minute to breathe.  

Dean sighed and sank down on the stairs, his head lifted to the sky. It was a clear night, the stars shone brightly as if to compete in their beauty.  

He had always loved astronomy. Maybe he'd have a chance at studying it in college, Dean thought absently as he traced the well-known constellations at the sky.  

Scorpius was visible over the neighbour's house. 

Libra shone brightly above the tall tree.  

Virgo was to his right, directly atop of Cas. 

Wait. 

Dean whipped his head back around, as quickly as his intoxicated body allowed him to.  

Indeed, there really way Cas, standing there, on the other side of the porch, leaned against the wall of the house. A cigarette lazily hung out of the corner of his mouth, on the unpierced side as Dean noticed. His eyes rested on Dean, his lips quirked in a smile.  

Cas looked good. He wore tight jeans, again, a plain white shirt that emphasised his broad shoulders and a black vest, combined with a black boater hat, which unfortunately hid most of his hair. Dean liked the style, he only wished he'd lose the damn hat. He liked Cas' hair, nothing should have the right to just cover it.

"Hey, green-eyes. You alright?", Cas asked, and although the smile on his face did not alter, Dean thought that he saw a trace of worry in his gaze. Or maybe Dean was just drunk. Whatever. 

"Sure", he answered, slightly slurred. Cas grinned at that. "Just a bit... overwhelmed." 

The older one nodded, then, suddenly, he pushed himself from the wall, stalked over to Dean and with a sigh, plopped down next to him on the stairs. Dean could only stare at him. Every bit of the relaxed demeanour the Bacardi Coke hat granted him was wiped away by the proximity of the other one. 

Cas didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he did a good job at ignoring it.  

"Your first party?" 

Dean only shrugged. So what if it was, he thought as he looked away. 

"Don't do that", Cas' voice was suddenly very serious. 

"Do what?", Dean asked, still not brave enough to look back at Cas. 

"Hide." 

Dean's head shot up, but Cas didn't look judgemental. Only... only empathic. 

"It's easier", Dean admitted quietly, unusually open to the teenager he had spent so much time admiring from afar. He was even more beautiful this close, Dean thought absently. 

Cas nodded, never breaking the eye contact between them. "I know. But the easiest way isn't always the best way." 

They stared at each other, before Dean shrugged, looking at the floor. Cas sighed, again. He had failed him, Dean thought desperately, sadly. Of course he had. 

"Can I ask you something?", Cas asked, a few seconds later. Dean only shrugged again. He didn't trust his voice. 

"Why are you here?" 

It was a simple question. In theory. But Dean knew, oh he knew, that he couldn't answer sincerely. He couldn't, couldn't admit already- 

Instead, he answered with a question himself. 

"And you? Why are you here?", he asked without looking up.  

"Why am I at the party?" 

"No, why are you  _here._  Right here, outside, instead of at the actual party." 

"I wanted to check whether you were alright." 

Cas' voice was so normal, so unfazed that Dean had nearly missed the momentousness of what the other had said.  

"Wait, what?", he exclaimed, finally looking back at Cas, to which the other one responded with a smile. 

"I'd bet with you that Charlie and Jimmy forced you to come here. Just that I won't, because I already know that I'd win, so that would be unfair", he explained with a smirk, before his expression turned serious again. "Dean, I saw how uncomfortable you were. I couldn't just leave you with these two drunken idiots, nor could I just let you wander around the house alone. I just..." 

Cas looked aside, stomped out his cigarette on bottom step. 

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright." 

Dean blinked, unbelieving. 

"Why?" 

"Why?", Cas parroted with questioning eyes. "I don't think you've looked in the mirror enough, green-eyes." 

"Is this a pity thing?", Dean couldn't help but ask.  

Cas tilted his head, kind of like a confused owl. God, Dean  _was_ drunk. 

"Why would I pity you?" 

"I don't know", Dean glared at him with a challenging look. "They told me they wouldn't tell you but then again, they also put a bet on me, so why should I trust them with this?" 

"Who put a bet on you?", Cas seemed to be completely at lost now. 

"Jimmy and Charlie", Dean waved him off. Somewhere deep inside, he realised that he wasn't making any sense, he just couldn't bring himself to care. "You know, I don't need your pity. Just let it be if they told you to do this." 

"To do what exactly?", Cas voice was on edge between amusement and confusion.  

"This flirting thing", Dean motioned with his hand in the air between the two teenagers. 

Suddenly, Cas burst out with laughter. Dean looked at him, shocked, hurt. Had he misinterpreted- 

"Dean, from all the times we've met, this is literally the first time that I did  _not_ flirt with you!", Cas' laughter had stopped as Dean's expression changed, and he laid a hand on the other's arm, sincere now. "You are drunk and you are uncomfortable with most of the other people here. I won't use that, Dean. I won't... yes, okay? I was flirting with you over the last weeks, a lot actually. And I do hope that sometime, you know, there could be something. But for the moment, I just want to make sure you're okay." 

"So", Dean hesitated, still processing the words. "Not a pity thing?" 

"Not a pity thing", Cas ensured him with a soft smile. "Why even would I pity you, Dean?" 

Dean shrugged and turned to look forwards again, intently regarding the back yard. Only now did he realise how close he sat to the other one, their shoulders not just brushing but pressed together. Dean shuddered involuntarily, which somehow led to Cas moving even closer.  

"Dean?", he repeated, insistent on finding the answer to his question. 

Dean sighed and let his head fall against Cas' shoulder. Not even a full day ago, he hadn't been able to have a full conversation with him, and now he practically cuddled against Cas without worrying? He was probably drunker than he had expected. 

Cas had tensed for a second at Dean's blunt move, but after a moment, he seemed to relax. Dean felt a strong arm being wrapped around his shoulder, moving him even closer and he sighed contently. Cas chuckled at that, and Dean softly elbowed him for laughing at him. 

"Alright, alright", Cas whispered, the grin practically audible in his voice. 

Wrapped in comfortable silence, they stayed on the porch, the loud music barely hearable in the background, and looked at the stars. After a while, Cas asked: "Will you tell me why I should pity you?" 

Dean hesitated, chewed on his bottom lip. 

"The theatre kid having a crush on you", he craved finally. "What's not to pity there?" 

Every tension he had built in that moment all but disappeared as Cas squeezed his arm a bit firmer and rested his chin on the top of Dean's head. Dean snuggled closer instinctively.  

"Nah, sunshine. Absolutely nothing is to be pitied here." 

Dean smiled into the crook of Cas neck.  

"Thank you", was the last thing he whispered before the alcohol demanded its prize.  

Dean dozed off. 

 

*** 

 

A heavy hammer hit Dean, repeatedly, in the head. Hit him hard. 

He groaned as he preened his eyes open, fought with the brightness of the sun- just to straighten himself with a start. 

For a moment, he had absolutely no idea where he was. 

Only dressed in his boxers and the shirt from yesterday, Dean laid, sprawled out, on a big bed. Dark, thin linens covered his body and the pillow, which smelled distinctively familiar to him. The room itself wasn't big, but it was comfortable, personal none the less. A dark blue, nearly grey colour covered the walls. Shelves and cupboards hung all across the rooms, stuffed with thick books, pictures, small figures. Even on the big desk, there were papers, pens, folders everywhere. At the door, there was a coat hanger from which a well-known hat dangled.  

Cas' hat. 

This was Cas' room.  

Dean's eyes were wide as he took in every last detail in the room. Took in the picture of Cas and Jimmy on the nightstand. Took in the half open door to the wardrobe, through which he could see an impressing collection of shoes. Took in the old record player behind the door. 

With a sigh, Dean fell back on the bed. 

What the hell was he doing here, doing half naked in Cas' bed, in Cas' room? 

He remembered the party yesterday, remembered going outside, remember leaning against- holy shit, he had cuddled with Cas. 

Dean groaned as the realisation hit him, buried himself under the blanket. A smell of lavender and leather, a smell of  _Cas_ engulfed him and Dean snuggled closer under the bed. 

He couldn't hide forever. 

He'd have to face Cas sooner or later, either way.  

Dean sighed deeply, then shrugged off the blanket to sit up again. His head was slightly better, but he still felt quite dizzy and swayed a bit as he stood up.  

Good thing he knew the house, Dean thought as he made his way to the bathroom. In front of Jimmy's door, he stopped and knocked softly. When there was no answer, he quietly opened the door, just to find Charlie sound asleep in Jimmy's bed, Jimmy himself snoring on the floor. Well, that couldn't be comfortable. At least they all got home safe. 

As Dean descended the stairs a bit later, the smell of pancakes filled the air, made his stomach grumble. And indeed, there was Cas, his back to Dean, swaying in the kitchen. 

It was a picture for the gods. 

Cas wore even less than Dean, only a pair of losoe dark boxer shorts to be precise, which finally gave Dean the chance to see his tattoo for the first time. A pair of wings, drawn with dark ink, was sprawled out on Cas' muscled back, the movements of his arms making it look like they were moving too, flirting with the skin they were portrayed on. Dean leaned in the doorway as he watched Cas, a soft smile gracing his lips. 

Even from behind him, Dean could see how ruffled Cas' hair was. The radio on the counter played some cheesy pop song to which Cas moved with an enthusiasm that Dean couldn't help but admire. His gaze wandered from the tattoo, to Cas' moving feet, to the room. The Novaks had an open kitchen, which directly adjoined to a little dining area and the living room. On the comfortable green couch that Dean had spent so much time on when hanging with Jimmy were pillows and a blanket piled in a chaotic heap. 

"Did you sleep on the couch?", Dean couldn't stop himself from blurting out. 

Cas whipped around, spatula still in his hand, a cheeky grin ornamenting his features.  

“Good morning to you too, green-eyes and freckles. Did you sleep well?”, he asked easily. 

Dean blushed, not only by his own rudeness but also as he remembered what had happened between him and Cas yesterday. 

“Good morning”, he cast his eyes to the floor. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ 

He waved his hand in the air between them, unsure what he wanted to say. Sorry for stealing Cas’ bed? Sorry for not greeting him? Sorry for everything be had said and done yesterday? 

Cas shrugged him off: “Don’t apologise, it’s fine. And to answer your question, yes, I did  sleep on the couch.” 

And without batting an eye, he turned back to the stove to flip the pancake. 

Hesitantly, Dean took a step forwards, walked around the kitchen aisle so he stood right in front of the other one, only separated by the counter on which there was already a plate with an impressing amount of pancakes. 

“Why?”, he couldn’t help but ask. 

“I thought you’d appreciate the bed. Or was that too... straight forwards? I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable?” And for a split second, Cas Novak seemed to be insecure about something.  

Dean smiled softly: “No, it was  _very_  nice. Thank you, Cas.” 

Cas’ head shot up as Dean called him by his name for the first time, a grin widening on his cheeks, and he relaxed again. 

“Next to the glass of orange juice is an aspirin should you need something for your head”, Cas motioned to the desk, which was only set for two people as Dean noticed with a small smile. “But you should drink the juice either way, it’s the best medicine against a hangover in my experience.” 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem”, Cas smirked. “How are you feeling anyways? You were pretty out of it yesterday.” 

Dean blushed again. Damn him, he should really train his poker face.  

“I’m alright, just a bit dizzy. What...”, he hesitated. “What happened yesterday? I kind of got a black out after. Well. You know.” 

Dean looked everywhere but at Cas as he remembered them cuddling on the porch yesterday, talking, watching the stars. 

“Sunshine, you didn’t black out, you fell asleep on me.” 

While Cas’ face was relaxed, joyous, Dean’s expression only took a moment to turn into the equivalent of utter terror. He gaped at Cas, then groaned and turned around, hid his face in his hands and let himself lean back against the counter. 

Of course he fucking fell asleep on Cas. Because after weeks of stammering and blushing, what the hell could he possibly do to embarrass himself even more? Get drunk, admit his feelings and fall asleep on what must be the most amazing person he ever had the chance to meet. He should just leave right away... 

A strange pair of hands pried his own from his face, and as Dean looked up he saw Cas just inches away from him, looking down at him with a serious expression. 

"I told you not to hide, Dean. You have no reason to do that." 

Dean just shook his head in disappointment, in embarrassment, as he pleadingly looked at Cas: "I'm really, really sorry, I-" 

"Yesterday was the nicest evening I had in a long time", Cas interrupted him suddenly, his eyes sincere, soft. "Thank you for that, Dean." 

And he inched even closer, capturing Dean with his intense gaze. 

"Why?", the other couldn't help but exhale without losing eye contact. 

Cas just sighed- he did that a lot, Dean realised unconsciously. 

"You really don't give yourself enough credit, sunshine", he stated. "I told you yesterday that I hope that somewhere down the line, there could be a  _we._ An  _us_. I meant that." 

Dean still only stared up at Cas, so the older teenager took initiative. He slowly leaned down, giving Dean time to pull back should he want to.  

After what felt like a decade, finally, finally, their lips touched in a careful kiss.  

The spell on Dean seemed to have broken, because not only did he move again, he pressed himself closer to Cas, moved his lips demandingly. Cas chuckled, surprised,  _happy_. He obeyed Dean and pressed him back against the counter as their kiss became more heated, hands cupping the other's cheeks. 

For a second, Cas leaned his head back, looked at Dean's blushed face. 

"Finally", he sighed contently before he moved right back, welcomed by Dean's soft lips on his own. Cas kissed him back, then he started wandering. Kissed his cheek, his neck, his jawbone. Dean moaned, unashamed, as he threw his head back, wrapped his arms tightly around- 

 

All of a sudden, a cough made them flinch back. 

There, in the hallway, stood Chuck.  

Chuck, who was supposed to be at a tour promoting his new book. 

Chuck, who grinned like an idiot. 

Chuck, who only stated "Your pancakes are burning", before he left for the stairs. 

Dean and Cas stared at each other in shock, stared for a few seconds. Then, they all but burst out laughing, Cas even doubling over because of the absurdity of the situation.  

Dean quickly hurried to the stove, where he put the pan with the charcoal-pancake to the side carefully, still giggling. Strong arms embraced him from behind, and Cas leaned forwards to rest his head on Dean's shoulder. 

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Dean?", the older teenager murmured. 

Dean smiled and snuggled closer to Cas: "How about a pancake-date?" 

 

*** 

 

 _A few_ _years later:_  

 

Jimmy dinged his spoon against his wine glass and stood up from where he sat next to Cas as the room fell silent. The older brother smiled up at him and squeezed Dean's hand instinctively as Jimmy started the speech he had promoted to them for weeks now. 

 

"After years, finally, here we are. Took you two long enough. 

I know both Cas and Dean for the majority of my life, and seeing my best friend and my brother complement, complete each other so well makes me happy every damn time I see them. Especially if I think back in time, think of how you two started... the theatre kid and the punk. It was an exciting road, for you _and_ for us, those who had the privilege to accompany you on your journey.  

For all the others, here is the story of how Cas and Dean became the disgustingly sweet husbands they are today. 

It all really started with the day on which _Dean broke science_..." 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked this little verse! If yes, I'd be really thankful if you left kudos or even a comment :)
> 
> EDIT 05/28/17: More following!  
> If you're interested, be sure to subscribe to the series! I hope to upload the first chapter of part two within a few weeks, once I've got the next chapter for my main fic finished :)
> 
> EDIT 10/31/17: Nevermind.


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